The Legend of Mysterious Mattie
by sushi4427
Summary: A series of brief encounters with Mysterious Mattie, the world's first and only Pokemon master, who shook the foundation of battling without saying a single word.
1. Dissertation

_The Legend of Mysterious Mattie_

**Author's Note: So I wanted a Pokemon master. Which isn't really surprising; I imagine that 95% of the people in the Pokemon fandom have wanted to create an OC that also happened to be the most powerful trainer of all time. But I didn't want it to be some stereotypical trainer or Mary Sue. No, I wanted her to be unique. So unique that she seemed otherworldly. So otherworldly that people didn't even believe that she existed.**

**If this is received positively, then I might continue, if I can scrape up some sort of plot or something. It would be with the Pokemon Adventures characters, though, so keep that in mind.**

**Yes, this is in the format of a paper by a college student. I've actually thought of her background too, oddly enough. This is a dissertation paper, or a paper that is written and presented to a committee in order to obtain your doctorate. I don't know if this is how they are actually written or presented, and I'm sure they're much longer, but heck, this is Pokemon, who cares about education anyway?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon, but I happen to really like this character and her story so I claim that.**

* * *

{Submitted electronically at 5:32:12 p.m. by Skye Prendergast [Doctorate Candidate], to be presented for dissertation on April 23th}

Pokemon training has been presented as many things: a sport, an art, a hobby. But no matter what, you can always present it in one simple way: anyone can do it, and anyone can be a master.

But one does not simply master the delicacies of Pokemon battling. Veteran battlers who have been doing so for many years no doubt dot the street corners of any town you happen to visit, and they are more than willing to tell you of their adventures from times when they were younger and stronger and aiming to be champions. However, even these elders of our's seem incapable of obtaining the elusive title of "master". And yet generations upon generations follow in their well-tread footsteps, never reaching that level and mournfully acknowledging that no one ever will.

So why is it that we all yearn to see someone rise to the top of the battling world, yet when we finally see someone do so we go so far as to denying the fact that they're living?

The legend of Mysterious Mattie has been around for a long time, before the boy Red, who is believed to be her second, won his first Pokemon League at the Indigo Plateau(_History of Pokemon League Champions, Volume IX _page 1011). Though every region lays claim to the elusive trainer, it is popular belief that she originated in Hoenn. This is not only because the island is the venue of her first recorded sighting, but it is also due to the fact that nearly all her Pokemon hail from the region (_Urban Legends: Just Beyond the Grasp of Reality_ page 74).

Sometime in Hoenn's cool autumn eight years ago, a sailor had a couple drinks after a long day near the docks. His tongue thoroughly loosened, he belted out a tale that would soon send every trainer in the region either into their safe homes or into the line of fire. He described a girl, not a day older than eleven, who sat down on the ground and drew while her Pokemon beat his into next week. It was literally no problem for her; none of his Pokemon even scratched her's, a Blaziken, and she never spoke a word and only looked up twice. (_Urban Legends: Just Beyond the Grasp of Reality_ page 75)

The story spread like wildfire, and soon similar stories began popping up all over Hoenn. They described a small girl with long, wavy black hair and small amber eyes, who would release a Pokemon and draw in a sketch book almost a third the size of her. She would never shout an order or even look as her team demolished anyone in their way; rather, she would glance up occasionally and politely take her prize money from her shocked opponent, disappearing before they could ask any questions. Eventually, this phantom trainer got a name: one of her opponents snapped out of their amazed stupor long enough to see a bronze nametag with the name "Mattie" engraved on it pinned to her bag. And since everyone likes a good illiteration, she was christened Mysterious Mattie. (_Urban Legends: Just Beyond the Grasp of Reality_ page 77)

Eventually, a list was put together and it was discovered that her team consisted of the following Pokemon:

An Electivire, male, bigger than normal. Could defy logic by attacking Ground-types.

A Blaziken, male, a little small. Could kill you with his blazing fire or his lightning fast Fighting attacks.

A Roserade, female, normal size and demeanor. Could put out fires with her leaves and powders.

A Metagross, male, much bigger than normal. Was so powerful that it is estimated it could mentally crush an entire city.

A Salamence, female. Graceful in the sky, vicious on the ground.

A Walrein, male, bigger than normal. Had perfect accuracy and therefore all his powerful Ice attacks hit. (_Urban Legends: Just Beyond the Grasp of Reality_ pages 82-88)

After acquiring her unforeseen fame, records show that Mattie left Hoenn and moved down into Johto. Her fights became less frequent, and it appears that she only battled when some unfortunate trainer made the mistake of challenging her to a battle. At this point, people were still puzzling over the key to the girl's power, and only when it appeared that she'd crossed almost all of Johto did someone come up with an explanation. (_Urban Legends: Just Beyond the Grasp of Reality_ page 77-78)

Haunted houses were on the rise. After discoveries of eerie locations such as Old Chateau in Sinnoh and the Strange House in Unova, the existence of ghosts didn't seem like such a preposterous idea anymore. (_Not a Pokemon: Supernatural Encounters Throughout the World_ pages 99, 234) And why not transfer such belief to this new legend? She never talked; her Pokemon were otherworldly. So it was unofficially decided: Mysterious Mattie was a ghost, and there was no chance she could ever be defeated. (_Urban Legends: Just Beyond the Grasp of Reality_ page 90)

After this, sightings of Mysterious Mattie deteriorated. There were a few in Kanto after one in Johto, but after that she dropped even more off the globe than she already was. The popular opinion was that, after being discovered for her true paranormal self, Mattie moved on to a greater part of the afterlife. Still, people kept their eyes peeled for her, an older girl now with long black hair and, most notably, knee-high and velcroed Converse. (_Urban Legends: Just Beyond the Grasp of Reality_ page 91-93)

But no one ever saw anything. After a year of no Mattie, everyone came to their different conclusions. Some stuck to their former conclusion, that she'd moved on to a fuller afterlife. Others said she went into hiding. One of the lesser accepted conclusions (lesser accepted but widely spread) was that she had never been real at all, and she was nothing more than a figment of a drunk man's and consequently hopeful trainers' imaginations. (_Urban Legends: Just Beyond the Grasp of Reality_ page 94)

There have been no recorded Mattie sightings in four years. No matter what conclusion you have come to about the first Pokemon master's disappearance, it seems obvious that she's gone and plans on staying that way. The only thing she leaves behind is the memories of the few trainers unlucky (or lucky, depending on how you look at it) enough to battle her, and the legend of Mysterious Mattie.

{End of report}


	2. The Girl with the Sketchpad

_The Legend of Mysterious Mattie_

The girl with the sketchpad became an odd, delightful part of my day whenever she blessed me with her presence. I never asked questions, not for a long time. It's not a grocer's job to converse with customers, just to give them their groceries as quickly as possible to move onto the next person.  
But I couldn't have talked to her if I wanted to. She always hid her face behind her enormous sketchpad, glancing at my products for a moment even though she already knew what she wanted. The pad would fall open and a list would be there for me to read, clear as day, no complaints or demands for better prices. The third time she came by I considered asking for a name, or at least where her parents were, but decided against it.  
I don't know why I didn't ask her about her parents when she first came in. She couldn't be any older than fourteen and was buying enough food to feed an army, always with cash. But something about this girl told me that she was capable of living however she wanted to, even if she looked like a child in those ridiculous shoes.  
The girl and I developed a sort of unspoken friendship. I would say hello and smile instead of grunt, and she would put down her sketchbook and smile back. She'd show me her list and I'd fill her order, already looking forward to her silent visit again.  
She and the store changed over time. It got busier after word got out that I was being more sociable, because apparently before I was "off-putting". But what can I say? A customer who seemed unwilling to utter a word put me in a good mood. I enjoyed watching her come out of her shell, in her own way. One day, she showed me some of her pictures in the sketchbook while I waited for my incompetent assistant to get her something, and they all proved to be very impressive, which I made sure to tell her. Eventually, she even started nodding at the other customers, who seldom nodded back. And they say I was the off-putting one.  
This went on for a long time, perhaps a year. I would've loved to have a conversation with her, but decided that if she hadn't talked yet she never would. Finally, after so many months of this wordless friendship, I took a deep breath and said:  
"What's your name, kid?" She looked up at me, startled. For once I was glad the store wasn't crowded, because she stared at me for a long time and I didn't want to rush her. Finally, she took a pencil that had been hidden in her messy black hair and added one word to the grocery list: Mattie. I nodded and handed her her bag.  
"Here's your order, Mattie." She nodded, took the bag, and ran in a different direction than she normally did.  
She never came back.


	3. The Girl Who Froze a Forest

_The Legend of Mysterious Mattie_

**Author's Note: I'm glad that this story is being received so positively :) I'm excited about it. Since you're the only reviewer that I haven't PMed, I'll thank you for your review here, Wetland king, like I traditionally do. So thank you very much :)**

**Disclaimer: This is the last one of these. I will not do what I always do, which is do one of these every chapter and essentially annoy everyone -.-**

* * *

The most extraordinary Pokemon I have ever seen belonged to an 11-year-old from Mauville. She had six already, all possessing amazing power and two being especially large. The first one she released was a Blaziken, and the first thing it did in return was glare at me. It wore this expression throughout the examination, as did the rest of her Pokemon.  
"Your Blaziken possesses amazing power, if not a bit small," I reported. She merely shrugged in response. Considering the fact that she had yet to say a single word, I guessed that she preferred to stay silent. "Could you have him prefer a Fire move for me?" The dark-haired girl glanced at her Pokemon. A second later the air was crackling with the most intense heat I've felt to date, her Blaziken looking pleased with itself.

"Extraordinary," I repeated when it stopped. Despite the cool weather outside, I was now sweating profusely. "Any other Pokemon, dear?" The girl's eyes narrowed at being called "dear", but she released a Walrein nonetheless. Since she seemed to know what I wanted, she glanced at her Pokemon and it released the most powerful, most _accurate _Sheer Cold into a nearby clump of trees. Those trees are still frozen, thawing a little every day.

Next was a Roserade, and imagine my astonishment when it completely disappeared for a moment. After another, it appeared at my side and sprayed Sleep Powder so strong that I passed out immediately and only woke up when her Electivire nearly electrocuted me.

She was very apologetic, in her own silent way.

What the Electivire showed me next still gives me goose bumps to this day. It took my Sandslash- which I released after the girl asked me to through writing in her sketchbook- and shot a volt og electricity through it that almost sent my dear Harmon into a coma.

Once again, she was the most apologetic little mute girl I'd ever met.

Next was a Metagross, completely massive and radiating with intense psychic power. I could feel my mind being violated just standing in its immense shadow.

"You can return him," I squeaked, covering my temples instinctively. She nodded hurriedly and did so. The final Pokemon was a Salamence, and its glare was the worst. "I think you know what I'm going to say. You have the most astonishing Pokemon I've ever seen in my entire life. Where on _earth _did you get them?" The girl shrugged, hopped on her terrifying Salamence, and left me with my frozen trees and everything I ever knew about being a connoiseur questioned. After all, power like that was unnatural, unreal, unlike anything I'd ever been taught to evaluate.

I have done my own research and discovered that these are the exact same Pokemon Mysterious Mattie had. If the mute girl I met that day was indeed the legend, I must confess that it would not be a surprise to me. Those Pokemon were spectacular. If they obliterated all who stood in their way, it would only make sense, since they blew me away just by standing next to me.

I must admit, though, I would love to know what happened to that little girl. She was very apologetic and _much_ less obnoxious than most of the children who consult me, you see.

- Reginald Bird, Level B Connoiseur


	4. The Crosshatch Girl

_The Legend of Mysterious Mattie_

**Author's Note: Gasp! Wetland king, how did you know the name of my Samurott? XD Just kidding (like that would fit anyway), but that part seriously made me laugh! And is Walrein really that bad to the Pokemon world? It's a good Pokemon.**

**This idea came from the wonderful Llatias :) If anyone has ideas for a POV, feel free to PM me!**

**And the "x" style you'll see is called crosshatching. Being the only writer in a family of artists has its perks XD**

* * *

So I wanted this picture of me, okay? And when I called my mom and asked her to get an artist or even just a camera, she said I was full of myself, but come on! I'd just gotten my hair cut at this place downtown, and I looked hot, and I just _really wanted a picture of me_.  
Anyway, I was kinda pouting as I headed home, since there weren't any street artists around to draw me. Then I see this short girl- kinda pretty, I guess, if you like nerdy girls with messy hair- with a sketchpad, and I'm like, look how lucky I am!  
"Hey!" I say to her, but she doesn't even look at me! "Hey! Chick with the sketchpad and Converse!" Then she looked. Despite being pretty small, her eyes looked like a Stantler's in the headlights.  
"Draw a picture of me." She cocked her head. "You're an artist right?" I pointed to the sketchpad, and the girl shrugged. "Well, I just got this awesome haircut, and I'll pay you if you draw it before it gets wet or something ." The hipster artist chick looked around her for a moment, shrugged again, and motioned for me to sit on a bench nearby. So I did, striking the latest pose I'd seen Elesa do in Unova, which the nerd snickered at as she began to draw.  
Something that really struck me about her was how fast that little hand of her's could move. Seriously, it was, like, a blur and stuff! And her face got all scrunched up as she drew, like everything else was blocked out except for me when she looked up. I was just starting to cramp up- seriously, models are amazing for holding poses like that for so long- when she sat up and stretched.  
"You done?" I asked, careful not to move in case she wasn't. The hipster nodded and showed me the picture.  
It was amazing, especially considering how little time she'd spent on it. Everything seemed to be made of these little x's, hasty little things that somehow morphed into _my_ beautiful self. I looked up and saw that she was looking at me with those Stantler eyes again.  
"It's great!" I exclaimed, jumping up and down. The hipster chick smiled and ripped the page out, thrusting it into my hands as she began to walk away. Looking at it again, I saw a scribbled name at the bottom, so messy and smudged that I couldn't read what it said at all.  
"What's your name?" I called out suddenly, looking up from the picture. But the artist was gone. Then I remembered, hey, she didn't say anything that entire time, so she probably wouldn't say anyway.  
Mom liked the picture so much that she hung it up above our mantle. When my little Red wannabe brother came home from a sleepover and asked about the picture, I told him about the silent artist with the weird shoes and Stantler eyes. The little twerp immediately started screaming that Mysterious Mattie drew a picture of me, and I told him to shove it, and Mom came in and said that we needed to be quiet and clean the dishes since no one had done it since he left.  
But that night I got all curious, so I went downstairs and took the picture out its frame to look at the serial killer handwriting of the signature.  
And if you looked kinda closely, I guess you could almost make out the name "Mattie".


	5. The Girl Who Crushed My Dreams

_The Legend of Mysterious Mattie_

**Author's Note: Anime Girl! Hi! :D And Borealis? What a pretty name! I don't think Mattie's Pokemon have names, since she doesn't really need them.**

In hindsight, I really owe Mysterious Mattie (if that is indeed who I came across that fateful day) every ounce of my gratitude.

I'm ashamed to admit that I've never done a particularly good job at sticking to things. At the most miniscule sign of discouragement, I have a habit of giving up. That is one of the many reasons that being a Pokemon trainer most likely wouldn't have worked out for me, even if my first battle hadn't been with the strongest Pokemon I've ever seen.

I'll begin by saying that my name is Professor Cole Grandine. My main field of study is Pokemon growth, but I'm most certainly not limited to just that. Before I decided to become a scientist, however, I, like many young people in Hoenn, decided that I was going to be the best Pokemon trainer the region had ever seen.

I was thirteen at the time, a ripe and passionate age, and me and my trusty Electrike were ready to take on anything that came our way. After about a day and a half of traveling, we had battled a few trainers, winning our matches. We assumed that the girl with the touseled black hair would be no different. After all, she jumped when we called her name, and she was younger than us. Not to mention, she was a _girl_, the ultimate downside to anything in a thirteen-year-old boy's eyes.

My assumptions about her status as a trainer were quickly squashed.

She released a Salamence, and it stared me and my Electrike down with a glare that makes me shiver to this day. To make matters worse, immediately afterwards she sat down and pulled out a sketchbook that was much too big for that messenger bag she carried with her. The nerve! Drawing in the middle of our battle! With renewed vigor, Electrike and I went at the Salamence with all we had.

All we had lasted about two attacks, neither doing any damage to the monolithic Pokemon, each time resulting in her looking up, worried.

Even with the worried glances, it took a minute for her to realize the battle had ended, and she looked a little surprised that her Pokemon had finished mine off so quickly. She stowed her sketchpad away and returned her Salamence to its Poke Ball. Her feet were especially light as she made her way towards us, and I handed her her prize money in a shocked trance. She gave a smile- which housed a twinge of pity- and darted into the brush. Looking back on it, her movements reminded me of a Buneary.

As I'm sure you've guessed, I stomped home in a discouraged rage, never to try battling again. I did, however, continue school and excel at it, eventually landing me a position as a student in a prestigious academy, where I became the success I am today.

And believe me, Miss Prendergast, I have studied many Pokemon during my studies. But none have even compared to the Salamence that accidentally crushed my dreams.


	6. The Girl in the Knothole

_The Legend of Mysterious Mattie_

**Author's Note: Yeah... this is really short. But I like it as a chapter, so enjoy :)**

* * *

You're not gonna publish this, right? 'Cause I've changed. I just thought this might be helpful.  
So I've not always been as... good a person as I am now. In fact, I liked to steal stuff. But I've learned my lesson, I swear! That weird chick in the knothole... She was just such easy picking. Or so I thought.  
Wait, you're confused now, aren't you?  
So I'm walking through this forest, a petty thief at their best. I'm hoping to find someone to rob, but instead I just find a some_thing_. But I wasn't complaining. I mean, it made the job easier. So I grab this messenger bag and am about to take off when, outta the corner of my eye, I see this girl. IN A KNOTHOLE. Like, in a tree. I nearly jumped outta my skin, really, but then I saw she was sleeping so I take off.  
Not long later, I hear these footsteps behind me. I figure, hey, I just started hearing them, they're probably far away. Then I feel something tackle me from behind, knocking the air clean outta my lungs and making me drop the bag. The runt that tackled me knocks me upside the head and jumps up, and looka that, it's the girl from the knothole. She scoops up her bag and glares at me, but I see that glare a buncha times 'cause that kick is making me see stars. As she walks by me, I see this bronze nameplate, and somehow I make out the word 'Mattie'.  
"I'm sorry, Mattie," I tell her, and she kinda gives me this nod, which I think meant my apology was accepted. I sat there a minute to let my thoughts get in order, and then the name started to ring a bell.  
"Wait... Mattie?!" But she was already gone.  
All this is true, I swear it, or my name isn't Matthew Dessen. Wait... seriously, you're not publishing this, are you?


	7. The Girl Who Was Running from Something

_The Legend of Mysterious Mattie_

* * *

A runaway.

That was the first thing I thought of when that girl- couldn't have been a day older than eleven- came into my store. You'd be surprised how many runaways I get, disguised as those trainers always wanting new shoes for the journey. One out of every two- MAYBE- are actually trainers. If only they wore badges saying they were leaving home without Mommy and Daddy's permission, then I'd actually be able to call the cops without Officer Jenny chewing me out. But I guess I'd get chewed out anyway, when she comes in and asks if I've seen a lost child.

Anyway, her bag was too big. That's always the first sign; trainers always carry tiny little bags, for reasons I don't understand. Her hair was messy, too, also a sure sign of a runaway. But she had actual Pokemon, I give her that. I could see the balls moving in that bag of her's, scurrying like little Pokemon do. She was fumbling around in said bag as she approached me. I plastered my best fake smile on and made my voice a little higher.

"Hi," I said in my "you're an annoying runaway but you're also a customer so I guess I'll deal with you" voice. "Are you going to go on a Pokemon journey?" She smiled and nodded slightly. Well, at least this one was silent. "Is there a special kind of shoe you want?" She nodded again, this time her smile looking almost as faked as mine. Well, it seemed me and the runt had something in common.

Suddenly, an enormous sketchpad was dropped onto my desk, knocking over some pencils. I didn't bother to coat my glare this time, and she didn't seem to blame me. She mouthed a sorry- don't know why she couldn't just say it- and opened the book to a certain picture, being careful not to touch any more of my stuff.

The picture she opened to showed a pair of knee-high shoes of some sort. While I admit the drawing was good (for an eleven-year-old), I still couldn't make out exactly what it was she wanted.

"Do you have a better reference picture than that?" This time, I used my normal voice. She didn't even seem to notice. Somewhat reluctantly, the girl nodded and smoothly pulled a folded-up picture out of her pocket.

It was of an older girl- her sister maybe?- with short, curly brown hair and bright blue eyes. She was wearing a bright red hoodie just long enough that it was okay to wear tights with it, and her feet were adorned with the most magnificent pair of bright red Converse I've ever seen, with Velcro extending across the laces.

"You want these?" Her messy curls bounce with enthusiasm as she nods. "They're pretty... mature." She shrugged, her eyes looking at mine, daring me to question her further. "Well, these are very unique, I'm not sure if I have any." Her little amber eyes darted around before she took a pencil and flipped a few pages in her sketchbook. With lighting fast speed, she wrote:

_Would you please check?_

Please? Now there's something you don't hear every day from a kid like her. I was so internally grateful that I went into the back to check, and was almost sorry that I'd have to send her off with the regular sneakers she had already.

There was a whole stash, somewhere in a cobweb-y corner. I never recalled buying them, but there they were, as if by magic. I was still pretty in shock when I brought them to her to try on, and more surprised still when the second pair turned out to be an almost perfect fit. But I was not as surprised as she was happy, and she cheerily went to sign my customer book.

At first, she spelled 'Matt', but scribbled it out after a moment's thought. In its place she put what I assume was her full name: Matilda Carson.

"First time big-girl shopping?" I asked with a smirk. She answered with a wad of cash and a curt nod. I really did feel bad for that, so I shouted:

"Have a good day, Matilda." She stopped and contemplated for a moment, then shook her head and smiled at me before closing the door behind her.

I have met 16 runaways since then, and each time I only wish they could be as incapable of speech as Miss Carson.


	8. The Girl Who Didn't Knock

_The Legend of Mysterious Mattie_

* * *

Our life was just so _ordinary_. Four person family, parents with desk jobs that were away that night, mediocrity in just about everything. I don't necessarily mind being so mind-numbingly regular most of the time, but it gets so suffocating and... that's why I let her in.

Like I said, my parents were gone that night. On a business trip, to Goldenrod or something. My little brother Davey was in the living watching TV, I was procrastinating on a project that was due in two days. It was one of those nights when I'd forgotten to take my anti-depressants and was wondering what the crap my life was worth. I was staring out the window, trying to look philosophical, when I noticed the lights were on on the porch. I went downstairs to turn it off, opening the door right as Davey not only started laughing hysterically at whatever was on TV but also completely let one rip. I sneered and was about to yell for him to at least say excuse me, but the words were taken out of my mouth.  
On our porch was a girl, probably my age and fast asleep.

"What is it, Dylan?" my brother screamed at the top of his lungs, causing the girl to wake up.

"'Sup," I murmured as our eyes met. The girl began scrambling for her bag, and I was too shocked to say anything as she pulled out a sketchpad and scribbled something in it:

_I'm sorry. I'm scared of the dark._

"It's cool," I replied, even though it kinda wasn't. "What's your name?" She scribbled on the pages again.

_Mattie._

"How old are you?"

_Almost 15._

"Look at that. I am 15. Where you headed?

_Not sure._

I don't quite know what made me do it. I'm guessing it was the overwhelming urge to prove that my life wasn't some cookie-cutter routine.

"Wanna come inside? The couch is more comfortable than the porch." Her little amber eyes widened.

_Uh... Really?_

"Sure."

_What about your parents?_

"Not here."

_You just met me. I was _sleeping _on your porch._

"Eh." Mattie deliberated for a moment, then shrugged and stepped inside.

"DAVEY," I yelled, "THIS GIRL MATTIE IS SPENDING THE NIGHT!"

"WHO?"

"MATTIE!"

"IS SHE A HOBO?" I turned to her. She shrugged and nodded.

"YEAH, SHE'S A HOBO."

"COOL, I'VE NEVER MET A REAL ONE BEFORE!"

"Davey!" I scolded as we entered the living room. "Don't offend our guest." Mattie waved it off.

"Are you mute, too?"

"Davey!" She pulled out her sketchbook and wrote her message in it:

_Yes, I am, actually. Mind if I talk to you like this?_

"'Course not!" Davey replied before patting the seat next to him. "Come over here, I was just trying to beat this level." Mattie peeked at the screen before excitedly scribbling

_I love this game! I can help you._

And that's exactly what we ended up doing. She helped Davey with his level, and I made us some frozen pizzas, and we ended up getting to know each other pretty well. For instance, I didn't know that Davey wanted to try out for basketball, and that his friends were calling him Dave now. Mattie was from Hoenn and was wandering now, and her real name was Matilda. And somehow, I ended up telling her about my depression, and she suggested that I find some replacement for whatever it is I've lost.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

_You get depressed when you lose something. Find a way to get it back._

We ended up rage-quitting after the final boss beat us, but we started playing again five minutes later and got as far as we could before falling asleep on the couch. When Davey and I woke up, we found a thank-you note from Mattie in her pretty but hasty handwriting, as well as this amazing picture of us all as characters from the game. And I don't know what she brought into our house, but whatever it was, it was a suitable replacement. I was off the pills within a month.

Do you know what happened to Mattie, Miss Prendergast? Was she actually Mysterious Mattie? Whoever she was, she helped Davey and I, and I owe her my thanks, and we have yet to beat that boss.


	9. The Girl at Fault

_The Legend of Mysterious Mattie_

* * *

It wasn't my fault.

There were so many components to the plan, no one can be blamed for it, really. Well, there were the grunts, and... that was it... But it couldn't be their fault, either. I mean, it was just bad circumstance, bad luck!

I just need everyone to know that IT WASN'T MY FAULT. It was just a plan I hatched to try and finally be promoted from my lonely grunt status! And it was so simple, there was so little chance it could go wrong... Find Mysterious Mattie, get her Pokemon through force.  
So few components. Just the grunts and the girl's willingness to comply. Neither went as planned.

And, yes, it was my plan, but it wasn't my fault! It's... it's her fault. Yeah, HER fault! Team Rocket can't be blamed for what she did. If it weren't for her then... And that police officer, too! They're ALL to blame! It's not me, no, not at all.

Mysterious Mattie. The officer. Yeah. Them.

Publish this. I DARE you. Let everyone hear that it wasn't part of the plan.

It wasn't part of the plan.

IT WASN'T MY FAULT.


	10. The Girl Who Could Save a City

_The Legend of Mysterious Mattie_

* * *

Team Rocket has never been much of a problem around here. Our town is so small and has so few Pokemon that they generally leave us be. This would normally make my job as Officer Jenny easier, and it was, until a year after I took my oaths as a police officer.

No one really knew what happened. Simon Huff was such a prominent member of the community, always welcoming visitors and telling us stories of when he lived in the city. Next thing you know, he's preaching to our young men about the pleasures of gangs. And before we could recover from our shock, a massive gang was formed with Huff at the top. Our town became increasingly bigger with new members, and increasingly dangerous. Now, it takes all the police department's resources to keep Huff's men even slightly at bay.

Though our town has grown, we're still fairly small, and it's fairly big news when a stranger comes around. And when there's news, the sheriff hears about it quick. I tried to find the girl I'd heard about and warn her about the danger, and thankfully it didn't take very long.

She was tiny, and pretty too, a prime target for Huff. As I ran up to her, I was surprised she hadn't already had a run-in with him. I called out to her and she turned around, looking for something in her bag.

"What's your name?" I asked, supposing that was a fine first question to ask. She jerked a sketchbook out of her bag and a pencil from her hair, then flipped to a page and scribbled on it:

_Mattie. _

"I see. Do you know where you are, Mattie?"

_No, not really._

"Then I hate to say it, but you're in gang territory. I advise you to get out as soon as possible." Her brow crinkled.

_Gang territory?_

"Yep."

_Have they been giving you trouble?_

"More than you'll ever know."

_How long?_

"Why are you so curious all the sudden? And why don't you talk instead of writing in that sketchpad?" She shook her head vigorously.

_Can't. And can I stay the night? I've been wandering for awhile now._

"Well... I guess you can stay at the police station. It's fairly safe there." So I lead her to the station, the streets eerily silent because the gang boys were watching a big battle on TV and Miss Mattie seemed incapable of conversation. Or, at least, that's why I THOUGHT there weren't around. When we got to the station, I got the real answer: Huff had kidnapped Martin Daughtery, one of the few boys in town to adamantly refuse joining him. He also happened to be an expert in military strategy, and I guess he became to big a potential asset for Huff to ignore.

"We have to storm their base," I announced gravely.

"But Officer Jen-"

"Who knows what they'll do to Martin to make him join!" I argued. "It's the only way. We have to save him." There was a silence as everyone agrees with me, and they started preparing without orders. As I watched, thinking about how dangerous this mission was, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

_Where are you going?_

"Huff's base," I told Mattie. "We found it a few months back, but the situation's never been dire enough to storm it."

_Where is it?_

"At a fancy house that he ended up owning, near the skate park. Why?"

_So I know to stay away from there._

Somehow, I knew she was lying. But I was too preoccupied with this sudden plan to worry about a stranger. When my men and I were ready, we set off towards Huff's mansion.

We found it with half the walls torn off and a fire raging on the top floor. And what do you know? Out stumbles Huff, wrists extended for my handcuffs.

"Change of heart?" I sneered, tightening the cuffs.

"I didn't know you hired so young," he panted, borderline hysteric.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That girl," he murmured. "She crashed through the walls, riding a... a..."

"Spit it out!" I barked, images of tiny Mattie flashing through my mind.

"A METAGROSS!" he screamed. "Then we all got this splitting headache, and she released a Blaziken that headed towards where we were keeping Daughtery. Then suddenly the house was on fire, and we still had the headaches, and I look up at her all cross-legged on her Metagross. Then she's throwing a paper airplane and I somehow manage to read it, and it says..." Huff pointed to his pocket, and I pulled out the stiff sketching paper.

_You can't touch a ghost, but I can't wait until justice lays her harsh hand on you._

The handwriting was so familiar. I threw Huff to a fellow officer, who escorted him to the car. I pulled out my walkie-talkie and barked:

"Hey, Santaruz, you back at the station?"

"And missing all the fun," my deputy replied.

"Where's that girl I brought in earlier?"

"You brought a girl in earlier?" I didn't answer. I simply muted the walkie-talkie and watched the gang get arrested and their base burn, knowing you can't thank a ghost either.


	11. The Girl Who Got the Pity Eggs

_The Legend of Mysterious Mattie_

* * *

Want to know what I don't understand? Why trainers bother to breed, only to leave half their eggs with me. What am I supposed to do with them? I have Pokemon to raise, after all. I don't have room to start my very own hatchery.

Luckily, there are occasions when a trainer's kind enough to take them off my hands. Most of the time, it's a 10-year-old with a starter, hoping for one more addition to their team. But the mute girl, she didn't have anything, and she wanted to change that quick.

I had just finished feeding all the Pokemon, and was praying that that frisky Manetric would spare me his womanizing exploits that day. She came in very early, much earlier than my usual clients, and she seemed antsy. Her eyes kept wandering to the Pokemon outside, her gaze both longing and worried.

"What can I do for you?" I asked, telepathically begging her to take some of the eggs off my hands. I cocked my brow as she pulled out a sketchbook.

_Do you have any spare eggs?_

I mentally cheered, but stayed calm and nodded.

"What are you looking for?" I asked.

_ I was hoping for six._

"Wait, six? An entire team?"

_I was hoping for good ones, too. Do you have any?_

"I have plenty of good eggs, but... Why do you need six?"

_I don't know. I just want to raise them my way._

And I guess that made sense. After all, I nodded in the direction of the egg storage room and she followed me back. I always kept the room organized, in hopes that more trainers would want eggs that way. Her little eyes scanned the labels on the shelves, judging each critically.

"See anything you like?" I asked, wondering how she'd carry six eggs. She shook her head slowly, then pulled out her sketchbook and wrote:

_Which of these are really good?_

There were lots of good Pokemon I had. Really, all Pokemon could be "good". But believe it or not, there WERE six Pokemon that I knew of right away. So I grabbed a bag and began.

"This will hatch into a Budew," I explained, hunting for the right egg. "It evolves into one of the best Grass-types there is. And this is a Beldum. Get it to it's final evolution and you're set. And a Bagon... Patience is a virtue with this little guy... Aha! A Spheal. This should be good. And lucky you! This is a Torchic. Took the trainer forever to find a female for breeding. And finally-" I turned around with the final egg, and was slightly amused at her way of balancing the other ones. "This is Elekid. Train it well, and maybe you won't have to evolve it the difficult way." I set it carefully on top of the overflowing bag, and she mouthed 'Thank you.'

"So you just want six eggs?" I asked again, holding the door for her. "Don't want to catch anything?" She shook her head, her hands too full for the sketchbook. "Well okay then." She set the eggs on the counter and pulled out her book again.

_I guess I just want my own little family._

"That's the most sensible thing anyone's ever written me," I laughed. "Well, take care of them. Hopefully they'll hatch soon." She nodded enthusiastically and gathered up her things, never to set foot in Mauville again. And maybe it was my sub-conscience pitying her, but that night at dinner I realized why she wanted a family.

But I don't feel that I'm at the liberty to say.


End file.
